


Stealing the Lead

by teztrash (teztime)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 12:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5626114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teztime/pseuds/teztrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stealing the Lead

**Author's Note:**

> Tformers-secret-santa gift for Sshiftinggears!
> 
> Happy 2016! Hope you like starting the year off with some not-so-old old married couple fluff!
> 
> _Wishlist: my request is a cyclonus/tailgate fanfiction! i’d love a silly and tooth-rotting fluffy prompt with just the big dweebs acting like an old n happily married couple :,^) thank you!!_
> 
> Thanks as always to my dear betas, [saosmash](http://archiveofourown.org/users/saosmash) and [rozzingit](http://archiveofourown.org/users/roz).

"I've been thinking about it," Tailgate said, "and I decided I'm older than you."

He lay on his stomach next to Cyclonus on his recharge slab. His elbows were propped on the slab, and his chin tucked on his hands. Cyclonus was a warm and solid presence seated at his side.

Tailgate watched as Cyclonus honed the blade of his Great Sword. The soft rasp of stone over metal was soothingly repetitive, and Tailgate found his head bobbing more than once as his systems threatened to slip into recharge.

"That's ridiculous."

Tailgate startled awake. To anyone else, the flat denial of Cyclonus's tone would be as good as a door slamming shut on the conversation, but Tailgate saw the way Cyclonus's eyes turned toward him, saw the slight curve of his mouth in a _yes, I'm listening_.

Tailgate beamed up at him. "You said that Vector Sigma gave you a new lease on life, right? Like you were reborn."

"I was speaking metaphorically--"

"Older than you!" Tailgate broke in with sing-song cheer.

Cyclonus looked at Tailgate for a moment and then set the stone and Sword to the side. "Very well," he said. He turned in his seat and rested his hands on his thighs. "If--" He paused, and then repeated, with emphasis, " _If_ you are older than me, then what?"

Tailgate paused, struck by the question. His feet, swinging in the air, froze and then fell back down to the berth with two soft thumps. He sat up. "Well, then it's my turn to teach _you_ something."

Cyclonus's eyes widened in obvious surprise. "What do _you_ have to teach me?"

Tailgate tried not to be too annoyed. "Lots! Could start with how to be nice," he muttered with a duck of his head.

Cyclonus's hand rested a moment atop Tailgate's head and Tailgate lifted his gaze to find the only apology that Cyclonus would give in his eyes. Cyclonus said, his low voice mild and dry, "Yes, that would be a start. But more work, I think, than you expect."

Tailgate laughed. The irritation slipped from his shoulders as they slumped in a slouch. "Yeah, maybe. We could start with -- mm, I have an idea."

He bolted from the bed to dig through his things. Behind him, he could hear the clink-clank of metal as Cyclonus hung the Great Sword with care and joined him.

"Got it!" Tailgate held his hoverboard over his head in triumph as he turned to face a deeply baffled look from Cyclonus.

"You must be joking. You know that won't carry two," Cyclonus said.

"Not gonna carry two!" Tailgate dropped the board and stepped onto it only to be stopped by Cyclonus's hand on his shoulder.

"Don't be foolish." Cyclonus's tone was harsh, but his touch on Tailgate's arm was gentle. The hand at his elbow supported him as Tailgate wobbled, and the curl of claws over his armoring was delicate and careful not to injure. "There's no room."

"No, I got this!" With a last wobble, Tailgate straightened. He tapped the board with his foot, and it rose in the air until his visor was even with Cyclonus's gaze.

"Hmm." Cyclonus seemed taken aback at first to find Tailgate at his level. He straightened his head and slid his hand to the narrow of Tailgate's waist. For all the incredible strength of his frame, his touch on Tailgate was light and certain. A smile hinted the line of his mouth. "I begin to see."

Tailgate's gaze brightened with his smile as he reached for Cyclonus's shoulders. "I'm going to teach you how to dance."

Cyclonus started to speak only to stop with a rumble of sound that rolled around his chest before exiting in a huff. He rested his other hand on Tailgate's shoulder with solemn dignity. It would take a careful study to reveal the gleam of humor in his gaze as he looked down on Tailgate, saying, "Very well."

Tailgate was a master in reading Cyclonus-face. Time had worn away the mystery of his gruffness; his self-protective facade was transparent to the bright glow of Tailgate's scrutiny. He felt the protectiveness in the stern touch of his arm, the affection of his hard embrace, and the humor of his level gaze as surely as he felt the board beneath his feet.

Tailgate laughed in eager delight. "Okay! Now you step back with your -- no, wait, other foot," he said, bobbing his hoverboard to follow Cyclonus. The board thumped against Cyclonus's midsection. Tailgate wobbled, and Cyclonus's touch firmed, steadying him.

"Good! Now back again," Tailgate said, following him more certainly, "and then to the left -- my left!" Tailgate went one way; Cyclonus went the other. The board threatened to slip from Tailgate's feet and drop him. Cyclonus stilled the board with the quick drop of his hand -- and thank goodness for his reflexes! -- before it could go too far.

Tailgate clutched Cyclonus's arm and tried to calm the startled beat of his spark. He looked up at Cyclonus and found endless patience in his gaze. The level regard steadied him far more certainly than the hand at his waist, and he was smiling a moment later. "So that's step one! There are only four more, and they all link together."

Minutes passed without notice as Tailgate walked Cyclonus through the four steps one wobbly-board bobble at a time. It wasn't perfect, and Cyclonus's dark armor was showing more than a few board-pink scuffs by the time they finished, but they _did_ finish.

"Okay," Tailgate said, hovering next to Cyclonus in the middle of their habsuite. "Now we just have to put them all together."

Cyclonus, who at this point was holding Tailgate's hand, rubbed the smaller palm in his own with the flat of his thumb. There was a buried note of laughter in his voice that made Tailgate narrow his visor in suspicion as Cyclonus asked, "Are you ready, then?"

"Ye--es," Tailgate said hesitatingly.

A moment later, his spark flared in his throat as Cyclonus whisked him from the board which clattered to the floor. Held in the strong circle of Cyclonus's arm, Tailgate's trepidation warmed into delight as Cyclonus lead them through the simple steps of the dance with a polished flair. They danced to the music of Tailgate's laughter, and when they ended with Cyclonus dipping Tailgate, his forehead pressed to Tailgate's helm, the laughter faded into something quieter.

Tailgate reached for Cyclonus's face to run his thumb along his cheek. "You knew that one, huh?"

Cyclonus turned his hand to press a kiss to Tailgate's palm. His voice rumbled against the sensitive skin of Tailgate's fingers as he said, "Yes, I knew it."

"Why didn't you say so?" Tailgate asked as he curled his fingers over Cyclonus's shoulders.

Cyclonus straightened. "I still enjoyed learning it from you. Would you teach me another?"

Tailgate giggled. "Okay. Can I have my board back?"

Cyclonus tightened his hold on Tailgate and growled a teasing, "No." He paused, then he said, "I like you like this. I don't mind holding you."

Tailgate, rightfully, translated this as _I love holding you_. The grin that lit his visor was reflected in Cyclonus's gaze as crimson warmed on Tailgate's features.

Cyclonus said, "I have no need for you to pretend to be anything other than what you are. Teach me, like this."

Tailgate wiggled happily in Cyclonus's arms to press closer to him. His breath vented hot over Cyclonus cheek as he nuzzled close. "In that case, I think it's time you learned a dance that's _not_ six million years old."

Cyclonus pressed his head to Tailgate's and said, "I would learn anything you would teach me."

The evening melted away as they danced, and danced, and danced.


End file.
